David Whalen Poems

Why do ol’ windmills make me sad
Why do so many people wear sanctimonious faces
Why do lovers lie so bad
And whatever became of shoelaces
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In Winter

I think of summer…
Of feverish glow
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One of the prime requisites
In the writing
of heartfelt prose
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Writing etched in sand
Hieroglyphs sketched by hand …by
Nature… and by man
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At My favorite Chinese restaurant
The other day, I somehow got to thinking
about ethnicity
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Calendar with days marked off…
Final day checked…
in blood-red ink marker mean
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You can't stop me from
Partaking of… your beauty…
Only with my eyes
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A time when things material
begin to have little… or no
Import at all
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An instance in introspection…
A pause in the passing of the seasons
As if Nature rested and reflected on it’s feckless design
Resigned, supine, upon it’s random reasons
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Let’s make all future wars
A disappearing act…
with a brand new
entertaining twist…
...